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Fascination: The Sicilian's Ruthless Marriage Revenge
Fascination: The Sicilian's Ruthless Marriage Revenge

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Fascination: The Sicilian's Ruthless Marriage Revenge

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‘Who said anything about sleeping?’ he said huskily.

Robin laughed softly even as she gave him a light push in the chest that took him back out into the hallway, quickly closing the bedroom door behind him to lean back against it, almost able to feel his brooding presence on the other side of that door. Her own feelings of frustration were nowhere near as deep now that she knew Cesare wanted her too …

Robin awoke with a feeling of complete disorientation, taking a few seconds to realise where she was—in a bedroom in Cesare’s suite—let alone the reason she had woken so suddenly.

It was still dark outside, and it was obviously still the middle of the night, so she couldn’t understand what—

And then she heard it again—that faint, totally unfamiliar sound of a baby.

Marco!

Robin lay in the bed for several minutes longer, hearing the sound twice more and wondering if Catriona had woken and gone in to Marco, or if he was alone. It wouldn’t hurt to at least check, now, would it?

She pulled on her panties and dress, not bothering with her stockings or her shoes, padding along the hallway in her bare feet to listen outside Marco’s bedroom door.

He seemed to be talking softly to himself now, rather than actually crying, which was something—although Robin still wasn’t sure whether or not he was alone. She couldn’t hear another voice, but perhaps Catriona was being quiet in an effort to get the little boy to go back to sleep.

Robin opened the nursery door quietly before peering inside and noticing that the room was lit by a single night-light plugged into the wall. Marco was alone, clearly visible in his cot, those dark brown eyes so like his uncle’s, lighting up excitedly as he spotted Robin in the doorway, and at once launched into the garbled chatter that only he understood.

‘Shh, baby, or you’ll wake everyone else,’ Robin crooned softly as she hastily entered the nursery and closed the door behind her, before moving to the side of Marco’s cot. ‘Can’t you sleep, little man?’ She smiled down at him, her heart turning a somersault in her chest as he beamed warmly back at her, falling down onto his bottom onto the cot’s mattress as he held up his arms to be picked up.

Robin didn’t quite know whether she should pick him up or not. Marco seemed to be wide awake, and she doubted he would simply lie down and go back to sleep now that he knew he wasn’t alone. But Cesare might not approve of her taking Marco out of his cot in the middle of the night …

When she married Cesare, Marco would be her son too, and if she wanted to pick him up in the middle of the night then she would, damn it!

And she did want to pick him up—so much wanted to hold his warm little body against her again, to hold and cuddle him as she would never be able to hold and cuddle a baby of her own.

Oh, he felt so good, she acknowledged achingly as she lifted him up to walk across to a chair and sit down with him still cradled in her arms. She nuzzled her face into his neck, his skin so soft and pliant, smelling of soap and talcum powder.

Marco giggled as her warm breath tickled his neck, his laugh one of pure enjoyment as his arms moved about her neck and he held on tight.

Robin’s heart melted inside her, unbidden tears springing into her eyes as she fell more in love with this adorable baby than ever.

And if—when—she married Cesare, Marco was going to be hers. Her own beloved baby. Her son!

Marco was touching her hair again now, seeming fascinated by its honey blondeness as he curled it about his fingers, quite at ease as he sat on her knee and talked in his own special language.

Robin had no idea how long she sat with him, playing and talking, making him giggle all over again as she blew gently on his obviously sensitive neck. Time didn’t matter. She never wanted to let Marco go, and was choking with emotion as he eventually grew tired and laid his head down on her shoulder to fall asleep in her arms, his tiny fingers still holding on tightly to her hair.

The tears fell silently down Robin’s cheeks as she sat in the chair just holding him. But they were tears of happiness for the maternal fulfilment she had thought would never be hers. For the gift of this beautiful little boy who already held her heart in the palm of his hand.

She wasn’t aware of falling asleep too, but daylight shone in through the window when she woke for the second time. Marco was still asleep in her arms—arms that had continued to hold him close even as she slept.

She couldn’t be found here, Robin knew—couldn’t allow Cesare to see how she cared for Marco. Cesare already had the upper hand in their dealings by being in possession of the Ingram Publishing shares. How much more dictatorial would he become if he were to realise how she really felt about this adorable baby?

She stood up to carry Marco across to his cot, reluctantly laying him gently down before tucking the covers over him. She lingered in spite of herself, unable to stop looking at him as he lay so angelically beautiful, longing to smooth those dark curls, to touch his creamy cheek, but knowing she didn’t dare be here when he woke again, that she didn’t dare risk giving her feelings away to Cesare.

Too much rested on Cesare not knowing that she already loved Marco, Robin accepted heavily as she reluctantly turned to leave the nursery. Cesare believed her to be immature and selfish, that it had been her choice to put off having children. And until they were married, until she had those shares in Ingram Publishing firmly in her hand, she didn’t dare let him see otherwise. ‘What are you doing?’

Robin’s breath caught in her throat as she turned to look at Cesare striding forcefully down the hallway to where she had just closed the nursery door softly behind her.

He looked thunderous, as if he suspected her reasons for being in Marco’s nursery were less than innocent.

Her chin rose as she frostily met his dark, accusing gaze. ‘I thought I heard Marco cry,’ she defended herself.

Cesare looked down at her searchingly, noting the pallor of her face with no make-up, the defiant glitter in those violet-coloured eyes, the stubborn set of her mouth.

He had woken at his normal seven o’clock, knowing he would have time to shower, shave and dress before Marco woke at seven-thirty. He usually spent half an hour or so having breakfast with his nephew before he had to leave for any business meetings.

He certainly hadn’t expected to leave his bedroom and see Robin emerging from Marco’s nursery!

Considering the reason Robin’s marriage had ended, and her ambivalence towards children, it was the last place Cesare would have expected to find her.

‘And did you?’ he prompted, and moved past her to open the nursery door and glance inside.

Marco was fast asleep in his cot.

Cesare’s gaze was once again accusing as he turned back to Robin after softly reclosing the door. ‘Obviously not,’ he grated.

‘Obviously not,’ she echoed, in an almost defiant tone.

Cesare’s eyes narrowed speculatively. He was not altogether sure he believed Robin’s explanation, but was unable to think of any other. ‘Do not fear, Robin. There will be time enough for you and Marco to become better acquainted once the two of us are married,’ he assured her sardonically.

‘I’m not frightened, Cesare,’ she came back hardly. ‘Of you or your nephew!’

Fear was the last thing Cesare wanted her to feel for him.

Although he was sure he had seen something like fear in her eyes just now, as she’d left Marco’s nursery.

Could it be that Robin actually feared caring for a young baby?

‘It is my intention that Catriona continues to care for Marco after the two of us are married,’ he informed her huskily.

It was Robin’s turn to look at him with puzzlement, to wonder why he was reassuring her of such a thing when he had earlier declared that caring for Marco, for Carla’s motherless baby, was to be part of her punishment for their blood feud.

Didn’t Cesare even trust her to be around Marco?

As if she would ever harm a glossy dark hair on that adorable baby’s head.

She resented Cesare for even thinking such a thing!

‘I’m sure that in your usual arrogant way you will continue making whatever decisions you want after the two of us are married,’ she said. ‘Well, you can make them, Cesare—but that doesn’t mean I’ll obey them! Now, if you will excuse me—’ she turned away ‘—I think it’s time I was leaving—What are you doing?’ she demanded indignantly as he grasped her arm and turned her back to face him.

He maintained that grip on her arm, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark as he looked down at her. ‘You are saying I am arrogant?’ he rasped.

Robin gave a choked laugh. ‘Saying? You are arrogant, Cesare. In fact, you’re the most arrogant man it’s ever been my misfortune to meet!’ she added.

Those dark eyes glittered warningly. ‘Misfortune, Robin?’ he repeated softly.

‘You don’t seriously think that a little kissing on your part has made me any more eager to be your wife, do you, Cesare?’ She shook her head even as she gave him a pitying look. ‘If you do, then let me assure you that you have seriously overrated your powers of sexual persuasion!’

The damned arrogance of the man! The gall! Hadn’t she already told Cesare that he would never rule her with the physical pleasure she’d experienced in his arms?

His mouth thinned as he continued to look down at her for several long, penetrating seconds, before his hand released her arm and he stepped away from her. ‘I find I have become tired of this delay before our marriage, Robin,’ he announced. ‘I am appreciative of the fact that you are close to your father—’

‘You should be, because it’s the only reason I’m here!’ she came back heatedly.

His face darkened. ‘I would go carefully, if I were you, Robin—’

‘Or what?’ she challenged.

‘You are once again being deliberately provocative,’ he warned her. ‘But this time it is a provocation I intend to ignore. I will come to your father’s house this evening so that we can discuss the date of our wedding.’

‘I’m twenty-seven years old and divorced. Don’t you think asking my father for my hand in marriage might be a little misplaced?’ Robin spluttered indignantly.

Cesare looked down his arrogant nose. ‘It was not my intention to ask your father for anything, but to tell him when we are to be married!’

‘Before you tell my father anything, don’t you think you should actually ask me to marry you first?’ Robin pointed out. ‘Or is it that you think you have such an upper hand in this situation that my agreement is already a foregone conclusion?’

‘And is it not?’ Cesare drawled.

Robin could cheerfully have hit him at that moment, so deep was her frustrated anger at his autocratic attitude. And all, it seemed, because he had caught her coming out of Marco’s nursery …

‘Oh, I’m going to marry you, Cesare,’ she assured him emotionally. ‘If only to make your life the misery that you’re making of mine!’ She was breathing hard in her agitation.

Cesare watched the rapid rise and fall of her breasts, knowing they were unconfined beneath her dress; her legs and feet were bare too, telling him that she probably only wore the dress and panties. Two items of clothing he wanted to rip from her body before taking her with a savagery that was almost out of his control.

Almost.

Because he had never forced himself on any woman, and he did not intend to start with Robin.

No matter how she provoked him!

Besides, she had just conceded that she would marry him… .

‘I’m interested to know what you’ll do if my father suggests we wait before getting married—get to know each other better before the question of marriage even arises,’ Robin taunted.

‘I am sure the fact that you stayed here with me last night will have told him we already know each other more than well enough for marriage,’ he opined. ‘Besides, I have every confidence that once you have reassured him of your feelings for me he will be happy to accept your decision.’

‘My feelings for you, Cesare?’ she parried.

He smiled humourlessly. ‘You will, of course, not tell him that it is hate you feel for me rather than love!’

Did she hate this man? Robin wondered to herself. Could she possibly hate him and still find such pleasure in his arms, in his caresses?

Somehow she thought not.

Although Cesare might possibly grow to hate her once he realised that she wasn’t about to produce the other Gambrelli sons and daughters he was obviously intending her to bear him.

She was saving that piece of information until after they were married and the shares in Ingram Publishing were safely back in her hands—she didn’t dare risk Cesare learning she couldn’t give him more children before she had those shares back! Though, after last night, she had another reason for maintaining her silence.

Marco.

She loved him—already couldn’t bear the thought of being parted from him if Cesare should discover her inability to give him more children and changed his mind about marrying her.

Maybe she was being a little unfair in not disclosing her apparent sterility to Cesare—but he wasn’t exactly being fair, either, when he demanded that she marry him.

She gave a stiff inclination of her head. ‘I’ll tell my father that you will be coming to the house this evening.’

‘Suitably assured of your own … desire for our marriage to take place, I hope?’ Cesare demanded.

‘Suitably assured of my determination that it will take place,’ she corrected him. ‘Believe me, if I could get those shares back any other way then I would,’ she added untruthfully. The lure of becoming Marco’s mother was more than enough to persuade her into marrying this man.

But she really couldn’t risk Cesare even guessing that before they were safely married, those shares were back in her possession, and Marco was her stepson.

Cesare’s mouth quirked. ‘What a pity—for you—that there really is no other way …’

‘You’re the one to be pitied, Cesare—for wanting to marry a woman who doesn’t love you,’ Robin assured him heavily as he raised dark, questioning brows. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go home and change before going to work—What is it now, Cesare?’ She sighed wearily as he scowled down at her.

‘You will cease to work for Ingram Publishing once we are married—’

‘I most certainly will not!’ she answered defiantly. ‘My father needs me to remain close just now, Cesare.’ She tried reasoning with him as he looked totally implacable.

‘Marco and I will need you to remain close also,’ he insisted.

‘You and Marco have got along quite well without me so far. I’m sure you can continue to do so after we’re married,’ Robin dismissed.

She was so stubborn, this woman Cesare intended to make his wife. Beautiful, but stubborn. Desirable, but stubborn. Loyal to her family, but oh so stubborn!

‘We will discuss this subject further once we are married,’ he compromised tightly.

‘We’ll discuss it now!’ Robin persisted. ‘I’ve never been a stay-at-home wife. I wouldn’t know how to be one.’

‘You have your charity work—’ ‘It isn’t enough, Cesare,’ she said. ‘You will have Marco—’

‘Who, as you’ve already informed me, will continue to be cared for by the very capable Catriona!’

‘Then I will find Catriona employment elsewhere!’ Cesare told her exasperatedly, absolutely determined that Robin would not continue to work at Ingram Publishing after they were married.

He travelled extensively on business, and he intended that she and Marco would travel with him whenever he had to go away—something Robin would not be able to do if she were still working with her father.

As far as Cesare was concerned it was not even a subject for discussion.

Robin looked at him from beneath lowered lashes, wondering if Cesare had any idea that he had just given her exactly what she wanted—and that was to be able to care for Marco herself.

Of course Cesare had no idea—he wouldn’t have made the suggestion if he had.

‘Is that decision non-negotiable?’ she prompted with false impatience.

‘Absolutely,’ he assured with certainty.

‘Then it seems this is yet something else I have no choice about,’ she conceded. ‘Now, I really do have to go,’ she finished, before turning to walk down the hallway to her bedroom to collect her things.

Robin was smiling as she closed the bedroom door behind her—a dreamy, ecstatic smile at the thought of taking care of her beloved Marco herself, all day every day.

In fact, she could almost love Cesare at that moment for being the one to give her what she so wanted!

Love Cesare …?

No, she couldn’t possibly feel love for such an arrogantly autocratic man, she told herself firmly. Physical desire, yes. But not love …

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘CATRIONA HAS INFORMED me that she desires to return to Sicily once we return from our honeymoon.’

Robin frowned at Cesare later that evening, as he was shown into the sitting room of the home she had shared with her father for the last year. ‘You’ve spoken to her already?’

‘Actually … no,’ he conceded ruefully. ‘She was the one who spoke to me. Apparently her sister recently had a child, and she wishes to return to Sicily in order to care for her niece.’

‘Did you say honeymoon?’ Robin questioned, as part of his earlier comment registered. ‘Who said anything about the two of us going away on a honeymoon?’

‘It is traditional after a wedding, is it not?’ he came back haughtily.

It might be, but theirs was hardly going to be a traditional wedding, was it?

She shook her head. ‘I really don’t think there’s any need to carry the fiasco that far, Cesare—’

‘Need or not, it will be expected,’ Cesare maintained firmly.

Robin grimaced. ‘By whom?’

‘By your father, for one. I thought he would be here this evening.’ Cesare frowned at the fact that her father was noticeably absent from the room.

It had been a long and trying day for Cesare so far, his business meetings having been more protracted than he would have wished. His thoughts had turned to Robin more often than he would have wished, too.

She looked wonderful again this evening, her cream dress perfect against the honey tones of her skin and the thick sheen of the long hair she wore loose about her shoulders. Her arms were bare, her legs long and silky in the stockings that Cesare now knew she favoured, instead of those unattractive tights most women wore, that he personally found so lacking in sensual allure.

Several times today he had found his mind wandering to thoughts of those long, long legs in their silk stockings, of the softness of her bare thighs above those sexy stocking-tops, of the silky triangle between her legs that he had so enjoyed caressing, of the taste of her as he’d suckled her nipples into the warmth of his mouth and brought her to shuddering release.

Thoughts that even now made his body harden with need!

So, yes, he intended taking Robin away on a honeymoon. He wanted to be alone with her somewhere for at least a week, so that they could explore every sensual pleasure together!

‘Daddy had to go and take a telephone call in his study, but he should be back in a few minutes,’ Robin excused. ‘Would you care for a drink while we’re waiting?’ She indicated the array of spirits in cut-glass decanters on the side dresser.

What he would care for would be to put an end to all of this and just be alone with Robin so that he could make love to her!

‘A whisky will be fine,’ he accepted instead, moving to sit down in one of the armchairs and watch Robin from between hooded lids as she deftly poured a measure of spirit for him.

Such long, sensual hands—hands that Cesare knew he wanted on his body with a need that made him impatient with everything and everyone else.

Once he got this necessary social meeting with her father out of the way, he intended taking Robin back to his hotel suite and taking her. And to hell with what the departing Catriona or anyone else thought!

Cesare seemed very distracted this evening, Robin noted, as she handed him the glass of whisky, finding his brooding silence unnerving.

‘It was your idea to come here this evening, Cesare,’ she reminded him dryly.

Those dark eyes glinted with impatience. ‘I am not in the least concerned about your father’s possible reaction to our plans for a hasty marriage, if that is what you are thinking, Robin.’

No, she wasn’t thinking that at all. The shares that Cesare held in Ingram Publishing apart, he—with all his wealth and power—was not a man many people said no to.

Including herself, it seemed …

‘I wouldn’t feel too relaxed if I were you, Cesare,’ she told him tartly, stung by his monumental self-confidence. ‘A man’s wealth is of little importance to my father when it comes to his suitability as a husband for his only daughter.’

Goodness knew, Giles had been wealthy enough—and look how disastrously that marriage had turned out!

‘And you, Robin?’ Cesare placed his untouched glass of whisky down on a side table before standing up, making her aware of his impeccably cut dark business suit, which was complemented by a white silk shirt and neatly knotted grey tie. ‘What is important to you as regards suitability in a husband?’ he encouraged, two long strides having brought him to stand directly in front of her.

Robin felt slightly overpowered by his proximity as she looked up into that darkly handsome face, and those black eyes were relentless as he easily held her gaze.

She swallowed hard. He was standing so close to her now she could feel the warmth of his body. She knew the power beneath that white silk shirt—had already touched and caressed his muscled strength yesterday.

She shook her head. ‘The question hardly applies between us, does it, Cesare?’ she responded.

‘No?’ He reached up to curve his hand about her throat, his thumb resting against the nerve pulsing in the hollow at its base.

‘You are becoming aroused again, Robin,’ he murmured with satisfaction.

‘I—’

‘Your pulse is racing.’ He ignored her protest, his dark gaze heated on her parted lips as his thumb moved caressingly against her jaw. ‘Your nipples are taut against your dress,’ he observed approvingly, his eyes having lowered to her thrusting breasts before slowly returning to her mouth. ‘You want me to kiss you,’ he said, and his thumb moved to part her lips and his mouth took possession of hers.

She did want him to kiss her. Robin couldn’t deny it, even as her body curved into his, her arms moving up about his shoulders and her fingers becoming entangled in the dark thickness of his hair.

She had no explanation for the madness she knew in this man’s arms—no will to fight it either, as Cesare slowly drew her bottom lip into his mouth, his tongue caressing its inner sensitivity as warmth spread through her whole body. Her groan was one of hunger as his tongue thrust fully into her mouth.

‘Perhaps I should come back later …?’

Robin wrenched her mouth from Cesare’s at the first sound of her father’s voice, giving Cesare a slightly accusing look as she wondered if he hadn’t kissed her with the sole intention of being caught in the act.

She turned away from his unreadable expression. ‘Don’t be silly, Daddy,’ she dismissed teasingly as she crossed the room to her father on legs that shook slightly, linking her arm with his and drawing him farther into the room. ‘I don’t need to introduce the two of you, do I?’ she asked lightly.

‘Gambrelli,’ her father said curtly, and he held out his hand.

‘Ingram,’ Cesare answered just as curtly, as he briefly shook the older man’s hand, impatient with the interruption—although in truth, holding Robin in his arms, kissing her, he had forgotten that her father was expected to make an appearance, had forgotten where they were!

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